


A Superhero in Sweatpants

by momothespicy (momothesweet)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Body Image, Bokuto is a sap and you know it, Chubby Reader, Couch Cuddles, Couch Sex, DFAB reader, F/M, Fluff, Lace Panties, M/M, Reader-Insert, Self-Esteem Issues, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, except this isn't quite what you think, lots of X-Men talk, thigh highs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 11:34:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10853157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momothesweet/pseuds/momothespicy
Summary: Right when you need him the most, Bokuto swoops in to rescue you from vicious thoughts and a supposedly-sexy outfit.





	A Superhero in Sweatpants

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot to say this time around and I'm sorry for that but:
> 
> We need more Bokuto smut!! And body positivity!!
> 
> Part of this idea stemmed from the fact that as much as I try, I cANNOT get some thigh highs I own to fit me properly. I'd have to order some online, specifically for plus-size people, if I actually want them to at least sit around my thighs comfortably before they start to just give up and roll down lol
> 
> Also note that I left out pronouns for the reader and simply mention (and very sparingly imply) that the reader is AFAB. Trying to be more inclusive in my reader inserts, so hopefully this is a start?
> 
> Finally, I'd like to thank my two beta readers:  
> Mari, aka [QuillMind](http://archiveofourown.org/users/quillmind) and Dovie, aka [lowcarbzeros](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lowcarbzeros). If you haven't read their work already, pleaaaaaaaase do so. I highly recommend them both.
> 
> Anyway. Let's get sad then happy then kinda sad then VERY happy! :D

This was a bad idea.

The one night you have free from work and school and all the other obligations, and this is what happens. You grip the tops of the sock and pull them as far as you can over your thigh, but the elastic is at its limit, unable to stretch any further. And when you let go, the fabric starts to roll down to your lower leg.

You’re ready to cry in bed and give up on this whole surprise.

Bokuto’s been busy. With volleyball and classes, it’s almost superhuman that he’s been staying afloat. You’ve definitely spent nights with him reassuring that everything’s going to be okay and he’s going to pass with flying colors, all on top of being the greatest wing spiker the university has ever seen. With your own busy schedule, it’s hard to find time for each other. The best you two have done in the last few weeks is some making out and over-the-pants touching until you both knock out in bed or on the couch.

Along with the long-awaited time alone, this was supposed to be a thank you gift to Bokuto. You never thought in a million years that you could nab the hottest buff dude in the gym with a voice that travels across an entire college campus. Hell, you never thought he’d even notice you. It’s taken a while to accept that he truly thinks you’re beautiful, weight and all. You’re still trying to wrap your head around the whole deal, too. Whatever the case, you want to show your gratitude  _ again _ for all the love he’s poured out for you. These days, it feels rare to find someone who can see past all the huge shirts and low self-esteem. Maybe you’re just lucky.

Or maybe you’re just a really tired person who wants to curse every pair of thigh highs in the universe.

Your idea of a night with him was  _ supposed  _ to be him walking into the bedroom of your shared apartment, you in bed wearing his jersey, some black lacy panties and thigh highs to match them. You got those first two things down; although, now that you look down at yourself, you’re starting to question these items of clothing, as well. Bokuto’s shirt just barely fits your frame, and its length isn’t even sufficient to cover your ass. The easy solution seemed to be to put on some panties you’ve been hesitant to wear since buying them, but now that looks like a dud. The lace is so pretty in your fingers, but now it just seems to ride up and twist and feel uncomfortable when you sit down.

And the socks.

These god forsaken socks you thought were going to fit your size along with the sizes before it. So much for being inclusive.

Of all the pieces of this outfit, that hits the nail on the head. You don’t look like one of those pretty petite people you see in magazines and on the internet, sporting some oversized top with thigh highs. In fact, you feel so far off the image you could be on another planet. At this point, you sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the socks that have now rolled down to your ankles in thick buns that’ll feel tight after a few minutes.

This wasn’t just a bad idea. This was a stupid idea.

You probably look ridiculous right now. You definitely feel the part. Not only that, all of your paranoia and insecurities return to the front of your mind to assault your thoughts with everything they’ve got.

Bokuto’s probably blind. He’s too bent on volleyball and meat to realize that you’re ugly. He’s probably coming home late because he’s flirting with someone skinnier and prettier who can easily put these clothes on and look so much hotter—

The sound of your name snaps you out of your thoughts.

Bokuto stands at the threshold, smiling then frowning at the sight of tears that have apparently been rolling down your cheeks and welling up in your eyes. He says your name again.

“Hey,” you sniffle, wiping away your tears and grabbing a pillow off the top of the bed to cover the front of your body. “Welcome home.”

“Yeah,” he says hesitantly. “Is...that my jersey?”

If you could fly out through the bedroom window right now, you would. Nobody can see you in this ridiculous outfit if you’re up in the sky, right?

You nod. “Yeah. Just wanted to try it on. No big deal.”

“But it  _ is _ a big deal!” he exclaims, his smile returning as he steps forward towards you. “You never wear my clothes and I’ve always wanted to see you in them. Lemme see!”

You shake your head and turn away from him.

“Come onnnn. Please?”

You hold the pillow tighter to your chest. “No, Kou.”

Bokuto seems to get the hint and he frowns again. You two have been together long enough that he’s picked up on your habits. He definitely didn’t understand how to handle them the first time around (and you two have definitely gotten into arguments about it), but he’s starting to get the hang of it. Starting.

He takes a seat a few inches away from you and slowly reaches out for your shoulder. A part of your body tells you to flinch and avoid the contact, but you’re so desperate to get out of this meltdown that you don’t resist. There’s a reason you two have been together for so long. Love like that takes time.

Bokuto does his best to sit there and wait patiently for you to speak. You know it’s hard for him when he starts to shuffle a little closer to you and move his hand to hold your own instead. But he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to push for an answer. He waits. 

“I wanted to do something nice,” you say quietly, “since it’s been so long that we’ve had time for each other. I wanted to wear this but it all looks really ugly and I don’t know why I did it.”

“Because—” Bokuto stops himself from saying something, knowing that you’ve told him multiple times to think before he speaks, especially in more delicate situations like these. He squeezes your hand and hops in bed to cross his legs. “Because you wanted to do this for me! You said so! And that’s awesome!”

“No it isn’t,” you say immediately. You take your hand away from his and squeeze the pillow. The case grows wetter when your tears continue to fall. “Look at me, Kou. I look terrible.”

Bokuto grumbles, staring at you from the side and probably thinking about what his next move should be. He’s already figured out in the time he’s been with you that the inappropriate response is “you don’t look terrible.” Something about negating what you said about yourself makes you feel doubtful, and it’s amazing that he understands that. That’s the other thing that baffles you about him. Funny enough, you’re confident that you’ve got a good grip on him and his mood swings (with much thanks to his best friends back in high school). On the other hand, you have no idea how he can handle you.

Another moment passes before Bokuto pipes up again. “What can you wear that’ll make you feel  _ not _ terrible?”

“Not this,” you mutter. “But I  _ want _ to wear your jersey. And these panties and thigh highs. It’s just...nothing fits.”

Nothing ever really fit growing up. Squeezing into jeans and doing your best to hide every part of you has become a facet of your life. You shouldn’t have been surprised that the thigh highs wouldn’t fit your legs. It was supposed to be worth a shot. You’re not so sure of that right now.

Bokuto hums loudly like he’s got a giant thinking cap on, running through ten thousand ideas to try and figure out how to solve this problem. Some problems are impossible in your eyes, but to Bokuto, you’re not impossible at all. His eyes widen and he bounces in bed once that light bulb shines brightly in his head.

And like the switch of a light, his gaze drops into a smirk you know all too well. When you aren’t questioning your appearance and hating yourself, you forget those troubles and focus on all the pleasure Bokuto drives into you. It’s strange how he’s able to do that, make you feel like you’re the best he’s ever had. No matter how many times he convinces you that you  _ are _ the best, there’s that little part that denies it. Even now.

“I know what you’re thinking,” you say, staring back at him with red eyes all cried out. “You’re just going to make me take all of this off.”

“Aww, you read my mind,” he pouts, dropping the act but still approaching you so now that your thighs touch. His hand comes around your back so that he can tuck his hand under the jersey, holding your hip while he presses a little kiss to your cheek. In his defense, you  _ do _ feel a little better with the physical contact. You can only cuddle so much at night to make up for all the times you two are actually awake.

“Thanks for doing all this,” he continues suddenly. “I know you said it’s not awesome, but I still think it is. Because you’ve been thinking about me.”

“Have you been thinking about me, too?”

“Of course!” Bokuto grins and takes a hold of the pillow for a little tug of excitement. “I wanted us to order food and watch the newest  _ Z-Men _ movie!”

You can’t help but snort. “Babe, it’s  _ X-Men _ .”

“Whatever! Kuroo was being a dick and told me to shut up when I told him about our plans for like the ‘millionth time.’” He tries to mock Kuroo’s voice and you crack a smile. “I missed you.”

Your eyes threaten to spill more tears but you resist. “I missed you, too.”

Bokuto leans in and kisses you properly this time, your hands finally letting up on the pillow so he can toss it away and hold you. He’s a lot more comforting than the pillow, and though you definitely want to put on some clothes now (or take them off, depending on what happens next), you enjoy the care he puts into each kiss and how his lips automatically travel to your jaw and to your neck. Pulling back, you manage a wider smile and giggle when he pecks your nose.

“We should order food first,” he suggests. “I’m starving.”

It’s only natural that your stomach growls in response at the mention of ordering food. All of your energy depleted trying to get those stupid socks to stay on your legs, to which you have now bent down to take them off and throw them somewhere where you won’t find them for the next few hours. “You can pick what we eat for dinner.”

“Can we order barbecue?!”

You stand and half-jog across the room to remove the jersey and opt for another shirt that actually fits you, plus some shorts and a much less lacy pair of underwear. Barbecue sounds delicious right now and eating dinner with your boyfriend while watching some superhero movie is a better alternative than trying to actively impress him. You can already hear him hooting when you say yes, smoothing down your fresh outfit and wiping away the last of your tears.

 

The more you watch the movie with Bokuto, the more you’re convinced that he resembles Wolverine.

It’s a little bothersome, since all you want to do now is mess with his hair, but you don’t. He’s way too engrossed in watching the mutant slash and sass his way through enemies. Dinner satisfies you, helping you forget any troubles from earlier this evening and simply enjoying the time you’re spending with Bokuto and Bokuto alone. It’s always different when you two are surrounded by your friends. The apartment is loud and bustling and this is the only time that you can actually witness Bokuto dead silent and totally hooked on the TV screen. Getting his attention would be like breaking a spell.

Another half hour of action and a little angst passes and the movie ends. You were pretty skeptical as to how this movie was going to turn out, but you quite enjoyed Wolverine’s storyline and more so how he sort of physically resembles your boyfriend. The credits roll and Bokuto stands and stretches his arms, flipping around to face you and grin. “I wanna be a mutant!”

“You do?”

“Yeah! I wanna change the weather and have super sharp claws and have LASER VISION,” he rambles. Extra emphasis with that last superpower.

Bokuto’s excitement is at its absolute purest and the way he’s still absolutely lit up after a couple of hours of sitting makes you light up, too. “So...you want to be the three-way lovechild of Wolverine, Storm, and Cyclops?”

“Duh! What would your mutant powers be?”

You give it some thought and think about all the mutants you saw for either two minutes or two hours on screen. Regardless of who your favorite character might be, you can’t help but draw your attention to Mystique. For painfully obvious reasons involving the transformation into another person. A prettier person. You try not to make that clear to a very currently-curious Bokuto.

“Shape shifting,” you answer coolly.

“Like Mystique?”

“Yeah,” you say with the shortest bit of hesitation. “Like her.”

“Ooh. You could pretend to be an idol for a day and be rich and famous!”

That doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Bokuto takes a seat and looks on at you with piqued interest. You ask him, “Which idol should I be?”

“Any one of them! Like an AKB48 girl! Or someone from Arashi! Oooh, what about those girls from Love Live?”

Being an idol sounds like a lot of hard work you don’t want to do, though the thoughts are entertaining enough. “Are you going to be one of my fans then, Kou?”

“I’ll spend all my savings to see you live!”

“That’s not going to happen,” you giggle, then say impulsively, “but hey. Maybe I can fit into those thigh highs if I’m one of those idols.”

Bokuto picks that up right away, smile morphing into a pout. “Would you only want to shape shift so you can be skinny?”

You think about his question honestly, then nod. “I mean. It would solve a lot of my problems. I won’t have to worry if something fits or not and people will actually believe that you’re my boyfriend.”

That last bit hurts a little more than everything else. Small clothes and confidence aside, the worst feeling might really be the fact that people are genuinely surprised about your relationship with Bokuto.

_ Did he lose a bet? _

_ Am I on a hidden camera show? _

_ I’ll give it a month. _

Most of the time, Bokuto receives the brunt of the bitching. You know he tries to hide it but you can see right through him when he comes home clutching his gym bag and avoiding eye contact with you. He can’t ever really keep a secret from you, especially when it involves someone trying to talk shit about you. You can appreciate Kuroo’s dramatic retellings of how Bokuto defended your honor.

What you appreciate more, however, is how Bokuto takes your hand and kisses it, like he’s apologizing yet again for all the times he’s nearly gotten kicked out of places for calling someone out. It’s better than watching him fall into a deep void of dejection.

“People are dumb,” he grumbles. “Why do they care so much about you and me?”

You shrug. “Because they’re jealous?”

“Jealous that they can’t ever be with someone amazing like you?”

Your heart skips a beat like it’s the first time you’ve ever met him. “Kou.”

“It’s true! You’re super smart and funny and the nicest person ever!  _ And _ you make the best lunches.”

You never brag about yourself, but you suppose your bentos are definitely the most delicious and pretty. Bokuto’s massive appetite gives you all the creativity and freedom to use a lot of food and decorate it in the best way possible. Little things. “Thank you,” you say, blushing.

“No, thank you!” He smacks a kiss on your cheek and puts a hand on your thigh, calming down so he can speak a lot softer and with less force and much more tenderness, “I love you.”

His words cut through more of the remnants of the disaster that was earlier this evening, driving you to kiss him on the lips, nice and slow as if you’re thanking him again. Bokuto eagerly kisses back, squeezing your thigh and very slowly crawling his way to the top of you. You lie back on the couch, situating yourself so that you sink into the cushions and wrap your arms around his neck. Bokuto’s lips have always been soft, as opposed to the rest of his body that’s pretty much entirely muscle. Warm, too. While he deepens the kiss and works his tongue inside your mouth, you finally get a hold of his hair, sliding your fingers through two-toned spikes that are deceptively fluffy. With every breath and quiet sigh, you start to feel that little spark between your legs, desire rising up along with your hips to tap against his.

Making out on the couch is the perfect way to get you relaxed and attentive to everything Bokuto does. He doesn’t have to blab on about how much he loves everything about you; he’s quite good at showing it by the way his hands tuck under your shirt with careful, practiced ease. Though he’s always one to jump on board and get on with whatever activity is presented in front of him, Bokuto always takes his time with you, even when he wants to be rougher. Tonight isn’t one of those rough nights; rather, he’s aiming to love every single part of you in all the ways he can.

Broad, hard fingers smooth up your sides as you two continue to kiss, Bokuto murmuring an “I love you” between breaths. His lips catch the corner of your mouth and your jawline, following a path down to your neck as he teases your skin and warms it up even more. The faintest contact between his fingertips and your nipples makes you gasp, the tiniest of moans creeping out of your throat.

“Did you like that?” he asks with a smirk. His palms come up to your chest and he rearranges his fingers to start playing with your nipples.

You moan louder before you answer him. “You—mmm—you know I love it when you make me feel good.”

“You sound so cute when you moan like that.” He glances down briefly and looks back up at you, grinning as he dips his hips down again so you can  _ definitely _ feel something hard that’s forming in his sweats. “Makes me want to fuck you right now.”

“Oh my god, Kou.” Bokuto pinches your nipples and at this point, your underwear is most definitely soaked through. You grab his wrists over your shirt, looking up at him with glazed eyes that scream lust. “Please.”

Not wanting to take the time to transition to the bedroom, Bokuto squeezes your chest before yanking his arms out from under your shirt and swiping your shorts and underwear off. One of your legs drapes down on the couch while the other is propped up and resting on his chest. He hastily pulls down his sweats and his boxers, his cock springing free and most definitely ready to stretch you out.

But not without a few fingers, first. As much as you’d like him to fuck you  _ right now _ , you grab two of his fingers and he gets the hint. He holds your leg up while he slips the two inside you, already wet and clenching around him. His moans only make that better for the two of you, you tightening up while he’s twitching so obviously before your eyes.

One curl of his fingers to that sweet spot and you arch up, mouth wide open to project his name and your cries to be fucked up to the ceiling.

“Kou—,” you outright yell, “fuck me. Please, I need you. Need your cock—”

You don’t need to say anything else because all you can feel now is the swiftness of his fingers flying out of you and his cock shoving inside you, all in what feels like one go. It’s part pain, part the best thing you could ever feel while splayed out like this on the couch. With both his hands squeezing your thigh against him, he starts to thrust hard, filling you so deliciously that all you can think about is his cock. You fall into a daze as he fucks you, bringing your hands up beneath your shirt to play with your nipples for some more stimulation.

Bokuto groans your name as his hips slow down until he’s stopping halfway inside you. “Let me see you. Come on, baby.”

With the way he’s fucking you and the way he encourages you with that husky voice, you don’t think twice about lifting your shirt up and showing him how hard your nipples are, thanks to his touch from earlier and your own right now. It drives him to thrust faster, his hips slamming against your skin and angling just right so that that sweet spot of yours is kissed hard by the tip of his cock. You squeeze your chest in response, toes curling up and your back coming off the couch once more. You’re sure your neighbors are going to complain. Again.

“I’m close,” you whimper.

“Me too.” Bokuto’s hand drops to rub your clit, working his thumb up and down as quickly as he can while he thrusts more erratically.

Seconds pass and with one particular thrust to your g-spot plus his thumb on you, you shake violently and come on his cock. If it weren’t for Bokuto’s reflexes and catching your hip, you would have fallen off the couch from such a powerful orgasm. Your throat strains from all the moaning and the cursing, up until you shut yourself up to hear Bokuto pant and groan and suddenly snap his hips to come inside you not two seconds later. He shudders, holding onto you tightly as he empties himself and babbles on about how you feel so good and so tight around him. You drown yourself in the sensation, so spent and so full and so  _ loved _ .

Though you’re still in an odd position on the couch, Bokuto bends forward to give you a kiss, loosening his grip and attempting to rearrange the both of you so that the couch is slightly more comfortable. You two are going to have to move to the bedroom sooner or later. Later, probably. You do your best to keep your lips on his, kissing back and running your fingers through his hair once more. It’s still fluffy.

Bokuto pulls out as slowly as he can without getting any mess on the couch. You snort when you hear him huff a little “yes!” when he doesn’t, then rearrange yourself so that you’re sitting up and slipping your shorts back on. The underwear can go in the laundry later. For now, they’re (sort of) tucked away in the pocket of Bokuto’s sweatpants. He bundles you up in his arms as the two of you lie on the couch together, facing each other and sharing little kisses and laughs as to how you both went from talking about superpowers (mutant powers?) to fucking on the couch.

“Thank you,” you suddenly tell him when the conversation dies down.

“For what?”

A beat before you answer him. “For. You know. Making me feel better about myself.”

Bokuto smiles and kisses you again. “That could be one of my mutant powers.”

The two of you are cuddling post-sex and he’s still going on about that. “Heh. Being a weather-changing claw man with laser vision isn’t good enough for you?”

He speaks quieter as he holds you closer to his chest. “I could trade that all just so I can always love you and make you feel good.”

You’re not sure whether or not you want to squeal or scowl at him for that, but what you are sure of is that you need not worry for the time being about whether or not Bokuto loves you. It’s so painfully obvious that he does.

You’ll always remember the look on his face when you reply by saying that loving you will make him, in your opinion, the greatest superhero in the universe.

**Author's Note:**

> It's up to you to wonder which X-Men movie they're watching lol. I didn't have one in mind in particular...it all just kind of mashed together in my head.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments, kudos, feedback and plus size thigh highs are greatly appreciated! <3
> 
> [Tumblr ](http://shoujomomo.tumblr.com) | [ Twitter](http://twitter.com/iwaizumiii)


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